


Saving Face

by dirkygoodness



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Arachnophobia, Collage, Disabled Character, Here there be Spiders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pseudo-Disabled Characters, Self-Hatred, Spiders, Suicide reference, Supernatural AU - Freeform, They're all in collage, They're disabled just not in the way it appears at first, reference to suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkygoodness/pseuds/dirkygoodness
Summary: In a way, Roman knew it was cliche. Part of him realized the fact that he was partnered with three bizarre, unique strangers to work on a project with was something right out of a movie.----Roman's got some things he needs to hide.His friends have some too.





	1. Bookstores and Cults

**Author's Note:**

> i wonder how long itll take for people to figure out what they are

In a way, Roman knew it was cliche. Part of him realized the fact that he was partnered with three - well, two, he knew Patton - bizarre, unique strangers to work on a project with was something right out of a movie but. It didn’t exactly temper his excitement or apprehension.

Because, on one hand he was excited to work on the project and share his _wonderful_ ideas with everyone. But on the other hand, he didn’t know these people. He didn’t know if they’d hate him, or be jerks, or just think his ideas sucked which was honestly the worst thing he could think of and it made his skin crawl.

It probably didn’t help that Roman didn’t even remember any of their names. Or the address he was given for where they’d meet up to work on it. Really, if not for Patton, Roman’s pretty sure he’d be useless.

Patton, oh, _wonderful_ Patton, shows up at his house, address in his phone and ready to go. Roman almost forgets to put his sunglasses on when he sees Patton through the window - only remembering when he sees the note he’s stuck to the door reminding him.

Roman grabs them off the coffee table, slings his bag over his shoulder, and goes bounding down his steps towards Patton and his car.

“You know you’re literally a life safer, right?” Roman asks with as much reverence in his voice as he can muster, and Patton giggle-snorts on his way to the drivers side of the car.

“I am not! I’m just more organized than you are,” Patton tells him, and Roman shakes his head as he gets in.

“No! _No._ You are the only thing keeping me from certain doom every day. Without you I’d wither and die like an unwatered rose!” Roman sighs dramatically, sliding down in his seat until his back is almost touching the bottom of it.

Patton, on the other hand, buckles his seatbelt, adjusts his mirror, and turns on the air conditioning like the responsible adult that he is.

“I don’t know about all that,” Patton laughs. “It’s just an english project.”

_“Just_ an english project?!” Roman asks, agast, pulling himself back up in the chair. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, because you know how important this class is. The sheer amount of things we can learn from our literary predecessors is astounding!” As he talks Patton reaches over and buckles his belt for him, before taking the car out onto the road.

Roman goes on for another few minutes, explaining in great detail the importance of english class while Patton just quietly sits and listens, occasionally nodding or humming affirmation. The rest of the drive goes relatively the same, with Roman talking and Patton saying one or two things here or there. Patton’s never very talkative while he’s driving - he’s always hyper focused on the task at hand.

When they eventually do come to a stop it’s in front of a small, but very nice looking bookstore and Roman stops talking to look at it. It’s inset into a line of other buildings, a coffee shop on one side and a thrift store on the other. There’s a sign on the door that says closed and the lights are off.

“Uh, Padre, you sure you have the right address?” Roman asks, leaning forwards to try and get a better look. Patton puts the car in park and turns it off, taking off his seatbelt as he too looks at the bookstore.

“Yeah, this looks like the right place.” Patton says thoughtfully as he moves to get out of the car.

“It also looks closed,” Roman adds, scrambling to get his seatbelt off and out of the car to follow Patton. “Maybe the dudes pranking us?”

“I can assure you, I’m not _pranking_ you.” A voice says and Roman whips his head around and spots the source of it.

There’s a man, on the high end of five feet tall, getting out of a _really_ nice looking minivan. His hair is a dark black, but his eyebrows are a fair blond - he’s obviously dying it. He’s dressed in a dark blue, short sleeved button down and very baggy slacks. He’s leaning up against the door of the car. Roman recognizes him as one of the people he was teamed up with.

“Hello, Logan!” Patton says - his name is Logan then - and runs over to greet him. He holds out his hand and Logan eyes it suspiciously before very hesitantly shaking it.

“Greetings again, Patton.”

“I hope we’re not late?” Patton asks, turning to look at the bookstore now - he’s still not let go of Logan’s hand. Logan looks increasingly uncomfortable with something and eventually pulls himself away from Patton. He shifts, bending down and leaning back into his car as he speaks.

“No, you’re not. I just had a little trouble getting out of the house this morning. I lost my glasses, you see,” Logan says as he pulls out of the car, two dual crutches in his hands. He adjusts them so they’re under his arms and moves up onto the sidewalk, pushing the door closed with one crutch.

“One moment,” Logan says, reaching into his pocket and rummaging around for a moment. Roman moves over to Patton, sidling up behind him. Logan finally pulls out his keys and presses a button on them, and the side door slides open to reveal another man inside.

_It’s like a clown car,_ Roman thinks suddenly, for no reason. The man’s dressed in a black hoodie, dark hair to match, and he’s glaring at Logan when the door finally slides open. Logan presses another button and a small ramp slides out from the van and that’s when Roman notices he’s in a wheelchair.

Roman doesn’t actually recognize him, but he assumes it’s the fourth party to their group. As soon as the other guys on the sidewalk Patton runs over to him and holds out his hand like he had done with Logan. Somehow Roman can already feel like it’s not going to go over well. Something about this guy sets Roman just enough on edge that he’s keeping a closer eye on him.

“Nice to finally meet you, Virgil!” Patton says, chipper as always. The guy - Virgil - stares at his hand with a sort of wide-eyed look. There’s a moment of silence before he says anything.

“Uh, yeah, hi,” Virgil says haltingly, and Patton pulls his hand back with a smile, clearly unphased. Roman winces internally for him.

“This is gonna be fun!” Patton tells them as he moves to the door, Logan going after him - leaving Roman with Virgil.

Roman stiffens and has to resist the urge to call out to Patton to come back because he’s an adult too he doesn’t need a chaperone. Roman glances down to Virgil, who’s staring forward and looking remarkably bored.

Despite his apprehension, Roman can’t help but find Virgil attractive and - okay, he’s not going to entertain _that_ line of thought any further. No sir! Just keep looking forwards and ignoring him. Don’t say anything, don’t say anything, don’t say-

“It’s a nice day out, huh?” Roman says, because he can’t help himself, and his voice cracks pathetically.

“I guess,” Virgil says with a grunt, and then he’s moving towards the rest of the group and, _damn it,_ Roman sucks.

He pushes his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose and goes to follow them. Logan just unlocks the door when he gets there, the door swinging open with an eerie screech. Patton goes in first, excitement clear on his face as he does, with Logan hot on his tails.

Roman lets Virgil go in first and shuts the door behind them, looking around. The lights are all off, but from what he can see it’s a pretty nice looking bookstore. The building looks deep and the bookshelves go all the way up to the ceiling, information tags on the ends of the shelves.

There's a checkout at the front of the building and a little bench set into one of the windows. Quant. Roman wouldn’t be opposed to spending his time here, when it was open. Actually, wasn’t this place closed? How’d they manage to get in -

“Hang on, do you work here?” Roman asks, moving towards where Logan and Patton are standing.

“Not really,” Logan says. “I work here sometimes when I’m free.”

“How do you have keys?” Roman blinks, confused, and Logan raises an eyebrow at him and gives him a look like he’d grown two heads.

“I own it.” He says it so casually, so clear, that Roman for a moment almost thinks himself silly for asking. Only for a moment though.

“You _own_ this place?” Roman splutters and behind them Virgil laughs.

“I thought everyone knew by now? Logan’s rich.” Virgil tells them and Roman glances at him, mouth slack in shock. _I sure didn’t know that,_ he thinks, stunned. There’s silence for another moment before Logan clears his throat, signalling for their attention.

“I’m going to go get our books from the back, I called in a few extra copies when I found out what we were doing our project on.” Logan nods to them and turns, making to go.

“I’ll come with!” Patton says and follows after Logan happily - once again, leaving Roman alone with Virgil. If Roman didn’t know Patton better he’d say he was doing it on purpose.

But he does know him better, better enough to know he’d never intentionally put Roman in a position that made him uncomfortable. Patton was too much of a good guy to do that. Roman sighs. He might as well try to get to know Virgil, it’s not like he’s got much choice.

And the better terms he is with his group the better chances of a good grade there is. Roman turns, words on the tip of his tongue but he stops just short when he realizes Virgil has vanished. He looks around, half-formed words slipping from his lips in confusion.

_Where the hell-_ Roman hears the whir of the wheelchair as it moves to his left and he sighs and goes to find him. He doesn’t actually know why he’s following Virgil, but something in him is telling him not to let him out of his sight.

He follows the sound of his chair for a while, until it eventually stops and he has to look around for him. Roman almost passes him, stopping just short of going into the next isle. Virgil is in front of a row of books, looking intently at the cover. Roman looks towards the directory and squints.

_Occults, Witchraft, & Magic _it reads in big, cursive writing, and Roman turns to look at Virgil. The easiest explanation here is he was like Patton - liked to read about witchcraft stuff and do tarot card readings and all that. But some part of Roman told him it was something else and he takes a halting step forwards.

“Are you going to take those off?” Virgil asks, startling Roman so bad he shrieks and nearly falls face first into a bookcase. When Roman manages to gain his composure he clears his throat.

“Take what off?”

“Your glasses. We’re inside.” Virgil says, voice laced with venom, and he turns to glare daggers at Roman. Roman’s pretty sure he realized he was following him.

“I can’t,” Roman says out of instinct, out of years of practice. “My eyes are really sensitive to light.”

“The lights are off.” Virgil says skeptically, frowning, and Roman swallows hard.

“I’m _really_ sensitive to lights.” Roman says, voice wavering. Virgil looks like he’s about to say something else, like he’s going to push the subject, but then the lights suddenly come on and they’re both closing their eyes against it. Roman blinks his eyes open when they finally adjust, squinting against the light.

“Come over here guys, there’s a table!” Roman hears Patton shout somewhere ahead of him, and with a quick glance to make sure Virgil heard, Roman is moving to follow.


	2. Holmes and Raised Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Project discussion, Sherlock Holmes, and musical references.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for reference to school-shooters
> 
> characters fight in this chapter  
> copious use of sherlock quotes (there project is on the books)

“The most noteable phrase he says, clearly, is,  _ ‘it is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.’ _ ” Logan says, handing Virgil a wad of notebook paper to use. Beside Roman, Patton shakes his head fervently. 

_ “‘Education never ends, Watson. It is a series of lessons with the greatest for the last.’  _ I think that one's much more interesting. It really shows how he’s always looking for more information!” Patton tells him and Roman looks between the two, blinking. 

He’d always known Patton liked Sherlock Holmes a lot, but he never really expected to find someone who was just as interested - if not  _ more  _ so - with the series. He also hadn’t expected there to be a fight twenty minutes into working on their project. 

“It does show that, yes, but the other quote is much more fascinating. His code of conduct is something I, myself, admire! The quote rings with truth and importance. Put simply,  _ ‘don’t jump to conclusions, look only at the evidence.’  _ How more Holmsian do you need to get?” Logan argues.

Roman sits back in his chair, crossing his arms as he watches the two fight over it. He doesn’t really have anything to offer in the fight and doesn’t know how to mediate, can’t even begin to figure out what the right thing to say would be. He doesn’t even know if he  _ should.  _

So he lets Patton fight his own battles and sits back to watch. Roman tells himself he’ll jump in if it gets bad, if he needs to, if Patton needs him. They go on for a while before Virgil, at the farthest end of the table, groans and drops his copy of  _ The Complete Sherlock Holmes; Volume One  _ down onto the table with a deafening thud. Roman’s head snaps to him at the noise.

“Logan’s is too long and Patton’s is too unrecognizable. Just go with  _ ‘ when you have excluded the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth’  _ for the header.” Virgil growls out, and Logan sputters and turns to him, looking offended. 

“You want to go with the most commonly used Sherlock Holmes quote for our header? You  _ do  _ realize that  _ everyone  _ else will be using this. There is a reason I didn’t choose that one from the start.”    


“Then what do you want? We can’t do the one you picked, it wont fit on the paper!” Virgil shouts and leans forwards, glaring daggers at Logan from across the table. Logan opens his mouth, about to say something, but Patton cuts him off.

“We could use mine, no one else will be using it! And it’s short enough it fits on the construction paper.”

“That’s cause no ones ever heard of it.” Virgil says, though not as annoyed this time, gaze turning to Patton. “We can’t be predictable and we can’t do something that no one will even recognize or else the teachers not even going to notice our project.” 

_ "Where there is no imagination there is no horror,"  _ Roman says quietly, without really thinking about it, and he freezes when he realizes what he’s said. The fighting dies down and when Roman eventually looks up everyone is staring at him. 

_ Well, shit.  _

“I didn’t know you read Sherlock!” Patton says ecstatically, grabbing Roman’s arm in his excitement. 

“Yea, well,” Roman laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You talked about it so much I read some of it. I don’t remember anything else though, just that line.” 

“I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be that well read.” Logan says, and Roman squints his eyes at him. 

Opens his mouth to say something, but closes it, deciding against it. He doesn’t want to start a fight again. Logan probably didn’t mean it that way, anyway.  _ Probably. _

“It’s kinda dark, though, isn’t it?” Patton says, letting Roman’s arm go. Roman almost misses the comfort. 

“It’s good,” Virgil says and Roman almost does a double take because.  _ What? _ Didn’t Virgil hate him? “It’s not the best but it’ll work.” Logan makes a huffing noise and slumps into his seat a little, looking kind of put out - or, at least Roman  _ thinks  _ he does. 

He’s started to notice that reading Logan’s expressions was… tricky, to say the least. With Patton it was easy, he could read Patton’s moods as easily as riding a bike. Granted, he knew Patton for years now and had only just met Logan. 

It’d probably take a little while before he was able to get the hang of it - but still, it seemed particularly difficult. Virgil starts writing something down on the notebook paper and Logan looks at Roman and Patton for a moment before talking.

“So, how are we going to do this? I know that two of us have already read most and-or all of the Sherlock series, so we already know the material. Do we want to have you two read it too, or should Patton and I do the book portion and you two do the poster board?” Logan asks, pushing his glasses up his nose, and Roman sits up straight instantly.

“Do I get to design it?” He asks, barely able to hide his excitement, and Logan nods. “Then I’d  _ love  _ to do the poster board. I already have so many ideas, and they’re all great, so you don’t have to worry about it being, like, uninspired.” Roman says, waving his hands in emphasis as he slides his chair closer to the table.

“Aren’t _ you _ full of yourself,” Virgil snorts and Roman frowns, turning to him. Virgil’s got his head turned down and he’s still writing, like he hadn’t even said anything.

“I’m not full of myself, I’m confident in my abilities. There’s a difference. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with trusting yourself.” Roman tells him, and Virgil raises an eyebrow, his pen stilling.

“Your ability to… what? Put just the right amount of  _ glitter  _ on the paper?” 

“Too much glitter and it’s messy, too little and it’s spotty!” Roman says defensively. 

“Are you serious?” Virgil laughs and lifts his head to look at Roman now. Virgil looks entirely unimpressed. Roman throws his hands up in exasperation, scoffing.

“I’d like to see you do it then, you anti-glitter elitist.” Roman raises his own eyebrow, trying to look intimidating (and failing), looking at Virgil expectantly. 

“At least I won’t make it an eyesore, Lisa Frank,” Virgil retorts, and Roman gasps. 

“Lisa Frank’s work is beautiful, that is a  _ compliment.”  _ Roman says as he leans over the table, glaring at Virgil with equal fire as he is. 

“Of course you’d like that stuff. You’re immature enough to.” Virgil leans back, crossing his arms, and he looks entirely too smug and it sets Roman’s brain on fire.

“Says emo Barney. Did a brooding grape throw up on you and you decided to wear it out in public?” Roman’s voice is raising on it’s own accord and he doesn’t have enough forethought to stop before it gets worse.   


“At least I’m not pretending to need sunglasses to look cooler. The Matrix came out nineteen years ago, it just makes you look stupid.” Virgil says, and Roman can’t  _ see  _ past his anger and he stands up, his chair screeching as it slides back, tipping and crashing to the floor.

“I  _ need  _ these glasses, you wanna-be school shooter! Is J.D. your role model or did you just take  _ Pumped up kicks  _ too seriously?” Roman screams at the top of his lungs, slamming his hands down on the table as he leans as close to Virgil as it will allow.

“Fuck you, asshole!” Virgil screams back, and then he’s driving his wheelchair away from the table, and Roman is left glaring at his back as he disappears into the deeper parts of the bookstore. 

Once he can’t see Virgil anymore Roman lets his head drop, squeezing his eyes shut against unwanted emotions. There’s a long moment of silence, the only sound Roman’s heavy breathing and the overhead fans.

“Well,” Logan says, cutting through the silence, and Roman lifts his head up to look at him. “That was entirely uncalled for. You could at least try to be civil.”

“Butt out, I don’t care that mommy and daddy didn’t love you enough to buy you feeling along with everything else.” Roman snaps before he can stop himself, and Patton jumps to his feet beside him, chair screeching like Roman’s had before.

“Roman!” Patton shouts, and Roman pushes himself away from the table to level a glare at Patton. 

He opens his mouth,  _ stop putting yourself in every part of my life, you airheaded doormat  _ on the tip of his tongue but he stops. Bites his tongue because this is  _ Patton  _ he’s talking about. Roman can’t say that to  _ Patton.  _ He’s his best friend.  _ His only friend.  _

“Stay out of this,” Roman says instead, but it’s fragile, his voice wavers and his eyes sting and he spins around on his heels and goes running outside the bookstore before he breaks down in front of them. 

He hears the door slam behind him and he sucks in a sharp breath, the air warmer and crisper outside. Roman gets about halfway to Patton’s car before he has to stop, a sob escaping him and he feels warm, wet tears slide down his face. 

His chest feels like someone’s taking his heart in a vice, it  _ hurts,  _ and Roman rips his glasses off his face to press the heels of his hands into his eyes. He keeps pressing until he sees spots but the tears still come, and he finally pulls off enough to wipe the tears away.  _ This is so stupid. I’m being stupid.  _

“Roman,” Patton’s voice is suddenly behind him, gentle and worried, and Roman feels a spike of true terror run through him, his blood suddenly cold.  _ Oh god, oh god, the glasses, my glasses are off, I can’t let him look, can’t let him lookcan’tlethimlook-  _

Roman scrambles to put his glasses on as fast as he can, shoving them onto his face so hard the earpieces get jabbed in his cheek and he winces. Just as he gets them on Patton comes around to his front,  _ thank god,  _ and now that Roman can see him he feels guilt hit him like a bus. His breath hitches as more tears spill from his eyes.   


“Roman, what was that?” Patton asks, and Roman squeezes his eyes shut again.   


“I’m so sorry, Patton, I shouldn’t have said all that, I just - we started and - and I didn’t meant to actually fight, but it just escalated. And then he mentioned my - my glasses, and I-”

“Roman,” Patton says, and suddenly Roman’s being pulled into a hug he knows he doesn’t deserve, but he melts into it anyway, letting out sob, after sob, into Patton’s shoulder. He clings to Patton like he’s drowning.   


“Roman, look. You said some stuff that wasn’t okay, but so did Virgil, it was both of your guys’ faults. I’m so sorry that he said that about you, I know how you feel about your eyes.” Patton says, as caring and amazing as always, but Roman can’t help but laugh a little.  _ You really don’t know how I feel about my eyes, Patton. If only you knew. _

“Why’re you laughing?” Patton asks, laughing a little now too. Part of Roman wants to actually tell him. Why he’s really laughing. He can’t though.  _ What would he think of me? _   


“You’re such a good guy. I don’t know how you can be so good all the time.”   


“It’s a gift!” Patton says, and now Roman’s really laughing, and Patton joins in, and he doesn’t really feel as horrible as he did before. They laugh for a little longer, until Patton eventually pulls away. He wipes a few stray tears from Roman’s cheeks - making sure to avoid getting too close to the sunglasses, bless him. 

“Let’s go back inside?” Patton asks, and Roman groans and lets his head fall back.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” He asks, and Patton makes a little noise of affirmation. 

“Can’t apologize out here.”   


“Virgil’s the one who started-” Roman starts to say, but Patton gives him a light whack on the arm.

“You need to apologize either way.”

“Yes, Padre.” Roman says, rolling his eyes, and he’s grateful that Patton can’t see him do it.


	3. Spiders and Bookshelves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, spiders, and unnecessary violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference to suicide and spoilers for Dear Evan Hansen (roman goes on a rant lol)
> 
> someone gets tossed across a room in this chapter

Logan’s the only one at the table when they come inside, and he doesn’t look like he’s moved from his spot. He’s taken Virgil’s notebook paper and is writing on it in place of him, and his eyes don’t even raise when Roman and Patton come back inside. Roman stares at him for a moment, hoping he’ll make the first move, but when Logan remains seemingly unphased by their presence Roman clears his throat. 

“I… want to apologize.” Roman says, wincing with how his voice cracks as he says it.  _ That  _ gets Logan to look up at him.

“For what?” He asks - like Roman  _ hadn’t  _ been a total ass and he splutters a bit for a moment. 

“I - I was being a jerk to you for no reason, and that’s not fair. You weren’t even  _ in  _ the fight, anyway.” Roman tells Logan, trying his hardest to get across his guilt. He  _ does  _ feel bad. Logan was caught in the crossfire of a fight, he was the innocent party in this - besides Patton, of course.  _ Virgil  _ on the other hand -

“What you said wasn’t insulting to me. If you want to apologize for something, I suggest seeking out Virgil. Quickly, mind. I’d like to get  _ something  _ done today.” Logan pushes his glasses up and turns back down to the paper, writing again, and Roman sucks in a breath. 

Puffs his chest out for a moment, indignant and annoyed, before letting out out in a huff. Beside him Patton elbows him, and when Roman looks he’s gesturing towards the direction Virgil had gone. Roman hesitates. He’s… he doesn’t want to do this. 

He doesn’t  _ feel  _ wrong for getting mad at Virgil. The guy was a total jerk, Roman had just been retaliating to something  _ he  _ started. But. Patton was almost always right, and if he said that Roman was just as at fault here, he was going to trust him. Didn’t mean he had to like it. 

Roman takes a breath, steals himself, and goes looking for Virgil. The bookshelves do a wonderful job of hiding the majority of the bookstore, and it’s almost impossible to see around them. Roman has to practically go into every row trying to find Virgil, and by his tenth one he’s starting to get frustrated. 

_ It’s like a maze in here,  _ Roman thinks bitterly, glaring at the walls of books as he passes yet another empty row. Roman makes it all the way to the end of the bookstore without a trace of Virgil, and he groans and runs a hand through his hair roughly.  Why did this place have to be so  _ big?  _ Was this place really  _ that  _ popular? 

Roman moves towards what looks like a break in the bookshelves, and sure enough it is. There’s five long, dark wood tables with matching chairs at them. A small alcove in the books to rest, maybe read. Again, it’d be comfortable if the shop wasn’t  _ so big.  _

Roman turns, about to leave, when he hears the faint shifting of paper. Like someone turning a page. His head snaps back around and he looks around frantically for where the noise came from. There’s no one sitting at the tables, they’re empty as can be, and he doesn’t see anywhere else someone could be. 

There’s another bookshelf that’s cutting off the rows of tables and Roman figures that’s where it ends. But he  _ heard  _ it somewhere over here, so he walks to it and peeks around the side. 

There’s another set of five tables, and sure enough, Virgil is seated at the head of the one farthest from Roman with his head deep in a rather thick looking book. Roman squints, trying to read the title and -  _ A Complete Collection of Poisonous Spiders.  _

It’s a book about. Spiders. Dangerous spiders, too. Roman really shouldn’t be as surprised as he is, but, here he was. He pushes his hair back again, thinking,  _ here I go,  _ as he walks as quietly as he can towards Virgil. 

Doesn’t want to scare him.  He gets about halfway before something in Virgil’s body language shifts and he straightens, and Roman’s pretty sure he knows he’s there. 

Oh well.

“You like spiders?” Is the first thing that comes to Roman’s mind, and of course he doesn’t have a good enough filter to stop himself from saying it. Virgil instantly drops the book and gives him his sharpest glare yet - he looks  _ really  _ pissed. 

“No,” Virgil snaps, and Roman would have believed it if not for the red tinting his cheeks. He’d have found it endearing, too, if he didn’t think Virgil was so annoying. “I was bored. What do you want.” Roman stops at the side of the table, crossing his arms and angling himself just  _ so.  _

“Cryo. Cryopagups? Cryopagups livdes? Is that your favorite?” Roman tries to pronounce it, but he’s reading it upside down and the letters are  _ incredibly  _ small, it’s not  _ his  _ fault. When he looks from the book Virgil’s giving him this  _ look  _ he can’t quite place - but if he had to try, he’d say it was something between exasperation and disgust. 

_ “ _ _ Cyriopagopus lividus,”  _ Virgil says, voice dry. “Cobalt blue tarantula. And no, I said I didn’t like spiders.” 

“Then why’re you reading a book about them?” Roman asked, sliding the book closer to himself to get a better look at it. 

There was a large, in-color picture of said spider on the left page. It was a fairly pretty spider, with bright blue legs and almost blue-grey body. Much prettier than most of the spiders Roman had seen in his life. Then his eyes drew over to the  _ poison  _ section of the description.

“‘Cobalt blue tarantulas have very painful venom. A bite from this tarantula may cause muscle cramps, inflation, and severe pain. While not deadly, it is best to avoid a bite from-’”   


“Stop that!” Virgil shouts, causing Roman to jump. He yanks the book out from under Roman’s hand, slamming it shut. 

Roman opens his mouth, an annoyed  _ ‘hey!’  _ on the tip of his tongue before he spots the look on Virgil’s face. He looks…  _ scared,  _ of all things. Roman has no idea why but it makes him shut his mouth instantly. 

“What do you  _ want?  _ I’m trying to be left alone, if I wanted to be around  _ you  _ I wouldn’t have came back here in the first place.” Virgil bites out, pushing the book as far away from Roman as he can manage without dropping it to the floor. Roman stares at his face for a good minute before blinking, snapping out of it as he registers what’s just been said.

“Uh,” Roman say eloquently. “I wanted to apologize.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to say that - I’m sorry. For... earlier. I shouldn’t have, uh, gone as far as I did.” Roman tells him with as much sincerity as he can muster, but he’s not sure it comes across all that well. 

“Uh,” Virgil says back, as eloquent as Roman, and they’re left staring at each other awkwardly in silence for a good long moment. “Thanks, I guess? I’m - I’m sorry, too. For the whole, y’know, glasses thing. I really thought you were faking it.” Virgil eventually says, waving his hands as he talks and Roman laughs a little, partly out of nerves. 

“It’s - yeah, a lot of people think I’m faking it.” He tells him, kicking his shoe across the floor, head dropping as he stares at the posts of the table. “I shouldn’t have, uh, I probably shouldn’t have called you a school shooter, either, huh?” 

“Really, you think?” Virgil says, but for once there’s not a bite to it - he’s laughing as he says it and when Roman looks back up there’s a small half-smile on his face. Roman’s heart swells with it. 

“Yeah, no, it was - it was  _ totally  _ out of line. People should just start calling me Jared Kleinman.” Roman laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Who?” Virgil asks, blinking in confusion. Roman’s hand drops and he stares back, mouth hanging open.

“You know, Jared. From  _ Dear Evan Hansen?  _ The musical?” 

“Never seen it,” Virgil deadpans, and Roman yanks the chair out from the table so fast his wrist hurts. Virgil jumps as he sits down, and Roman pulls himself closer.

“You’ve never seen it? Seriously?”

“That’s what I  _ just  _ said, dude.” 

“It’s  _ so  _ good. It’s this story about a socially awkward teen who’s got really bad anxiety, and is depressed - and later, you learn, suicidal. And he fakes being friends with this other kid in his school who’d just killed himself, and it’s about what happens when he does that and - the soundtrack is  _ amazing.  _ I tried to get our theater professor to let us do it last year, but she said because of the material we’d have to censor a lot of it - which is so stupid, I know for a  _ fact  _ she left the seniors the year before do  _ Rent,  _ which has way more dark material in it than  _ Dear Evan Hansen.  _ Honestly, I think she just doesn’t like the play.” Roman finishes, rolling his eyes. 

When he finally looks back at Virgil’s face he realizes he probably shouldn’t have just gone on a rant about this to someone he barely knew - and who he’d  _ fought with  _ no more than twenty minutes ago. 

“Oh, uh, sorry, Virgil,” Roman apologizes, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. “I didn’t mean to go on a ramble like that.” He laughs a little, leaning back from Virgil. 

“You’re… you’re fine. But -” Virgil cuts himself off, looking uncomfortable, before he clears his throat and looks away. “You’re in theater? You don’t really… look like someone who’d be in theater.” 

“What do I look like I’d be in?” Roman raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m in theater. It’s my major. Why else would I be talking about wanting to do a musical  _ for  _ theater if I wasn’t?” 

“Don’t get your tights in a knot, Princey, god.” Virgil says, and Roman startles a little at the name.  _ Princey-?  _ “I was just curious.” 

“Well, then, yeah. I’m in theater.”   


“Cool.” Virgil snaps.   


“Awesome.” Roman bites back, and he drops down against the chair back. 

They lapse into silence again, and this time it just drags on for a very long time. Neither of them say anything, Virgil picking at the binding of the spider book and Roman slowly, but surely, sinking further down into the chair until he’s almost completely out of it. 

Roman ends up with his eyes below the table, and they eventually find their way to Virgil’s chair. Most of the bottom of it is covered with a dark purple blanket, but Roman can see Virgil’s shoes peaking out from the bottom of it. 

They look tattered, worn - very old. Not treated well. They’re probably actually second hand, now that he thinks about it. 

“You’re going to fall out of the chair,” Virgil’s voice comes and startles him, Roman jerking with a shout and his head smacks against the table edge as he does. He grabs his forehead, groaning in pain as he does, in fact, slide out of the chair and onto the floor. 

“Ow,” Roman says quietly as he rubs his hand against his head. 

“Are you okay?” Virgil asks, and Roman can hear his chair moving until it comes to a stop directly beside Roman’s own chair. He manages to open one eye and is face to face with the bottom half of Virgil’s wheelchair. 

Roman lets out another shout, again jerking and he almost collides - again - with the table but Virgil reaches a hand out _ \- lightning fast -  _ and uses it as a buffer between him and the table. 

“Holy crap, Princey, you’re almost as jumpy as I am.” Virgil says, and Roman blinks his eyes open and ducks his head so he’s not pushing on his hand anymore. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Roman apologizes -  _ again, how many times is he going to do that today  _ \- and pulls himself up out from under the table, ending up with his upper body inside the chair as he pulls himself up. 

It also puts him directly in front of Virgil’s face, and this close he realizes instantly that Virgil’s eyes are black.  _ Completely  _ black. Where color should be bordering the pupil there’s just black. Roman blinks, sure for a moment that he’s hit his head too hard, but when it doesn’t change Roman makes a noise of worry.

“Your eyes, they’re-” Roman starts, but Virgil cuts him off.

“Really dark, yeah, I know.”   


“No, Virgil, they’re totally black. Like, there’s  _ no  _ color. Like, it’s so dilated I can’t see  _ any  _ color. Are you okay, I don’t think that’s normal-” Roman pulls himself up so he’s standing again, but he leans down, keeping his eyes locked with Virgils. His eyes don’t change.  _ This has got to be a medical issue- _

“I’m fine-” Virgil says, frowning and leaning as far back as his chair will allow - the line of his shoulders straightening.    


“Virgil that doesn’t look fine-” Roman leans closer, to counteract Virgil’s back peddling.    


“Will you stop-” Virgil turns his head away, but Romans reaching up and grabbing the side of his face to hold him still, his worry overriding his need for personal space. It’s surprisingly easy to turn Virgil’s head, like he’s either not trying to resist or isn’t strong enough to. 

“I think you need to see a doctor.” Roman tells him sharply, and Virgil takes a deep, long breath. 

Then Roman’s being shoved away hard enough it knocks the breath out of him, sending him across the room, and he can’t see anything that happens but for a moment he’s almost  _ positive  _ Virgil hadn’t moved his arms at all. Roman’s back hits something solid, hard, and he feels his back crack with sharp pain and he lets out a yelp before crashing to the floor. 

There’s a moment of nothing where Roman’s pretty sure he passes out, before he’s blinking his eyes open - vision mildly blurry - and he’s staring up at a ceiling fan spinning. There’s a shifting noise to his right, like fabric moving, and then there’s the familiar hum of Virgil’s chair moving.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I - I didn’t mean to-” Virgil is saying, but Roman doesn’t really focus on it. 

Too busy trying to figure out why everything is so  _ bright  _ and why it feels like there’s something on his chest. Roman blinks a little more before he cranes his neck down and -  _ ah,  _ there’s books laying on his chest. Six books, to be specific. 

Roman coughs, groaning as he shoves them off of himself as he sits up. His back feels like something was slammed into him, and when he looks he realizes that - somehow - Virgil  _ threw him into the bookshelf.  _

Something snaps under his hand, and when Roman looks down he sees his glasses, snapped clean in half, under the palm of his hand. 

Oh.

_ Oh no.  _


End file.
